


now I'm at the age when I know what I need

by orphan_account



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Harry is stupid, M/M, Multi, Nick is stupid, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, everyone is stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“What is your problem, Tomlinson?” Nick’s height is terrifying when they’re chest to chest. Louis isn’t used to feeling small.</em><br/><em>“Problem? What problem? Just having a nice night out…seeing and being seen…” Louis’ not sure if Nick will get the joke.</em><br/><em>Nick does not get the joke. Or, at least, he doesn’t laugh.</em><br/>...Or, the one where Louis and Nick are a thing, and then, well, Harry and Louis and Nick are a thing, and then, well, Harry and Louis go on tour, and then, well...angst ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now I'm at the age when I know what I need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asiacore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asiacore/gifts).



> Agh oh my gosh, here it is, finally finally FINALLY!
> 
> Big giganto thanks to Tori for setting this whole thing up (and being way too patient with me and my Life Crises), and thank you to all the writers that have made this exchange amazing!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I have never been in a poly relationship, so if I misrepresented it in any way, please let me know and I'll be happy to edit it. 
> 
> Double disclaimer: please respect the boys' privacy and do not ever attempt to show this to them. Gentlemen, if you're somehow reading this...you will not enjoy reading any further. Thank you xx.

Louis’ not sure how he got himself into this one.  
  
Well, that’s a lie. He knows exactly what got him into this: Nick Grimshaw’s big, fat mouth.  
  
Not that he regrets it, exactly. Well…hold on, it’s best to start at the beginning.  
  
In the beginning…was Nick Grimshaw’s big, fat mouth.  
  
…attached to Louis’ small, perfect mouth.  
  
It was another one of those posh Radio1 mixers, the kind that Louis got invitations for all the time from various members of his PR team. They’d send him email after email with beautifully designed cards as attachments with the body of the email just reading: “in case you wanted to unwind! Great opportunity to see and be seen!”  
  
Louis has never really understood what the pull of that was: okay, he’s on tour 300 days out of the year, so the perfect way to “”unwind”” is by going to some party where he’ll have to button some starchy dress shirt up to his throat and not draw a dick in his drink condensation…ummmm, no, thanks. Plus, “see and be seen” – he’s already seen by damn near everyone, he doesn’t need another five hundred pap photos (at least half of which are the unflattering kind where he’s caught with his eyes all scrunched) in circulation. Delightful, yeah, opt him out.  
  
That is, until Nick Grimshaw sent him a personal invitation. Via text message.  
  
_To the Grand Sir Tomlinson – accompany me to this shindig R1 is throwing tonight. Free drinks! Plus you will be graced with my presence :)))))_  
  
Louis, rightly, is disgusted. He isn’t even sure how Nick got his number, let alone why he’s sending him messages with smiley faces.  
  
_dontcha have a dif fav membr of 1d to go with niklas???_  
  
_Our dear friend Harold is a bit busy that evening, he assured me you’d be a wonderful replacement._  
  
Less than ten seconds later, Louis is on the phone with Harry.  
  
“What does he even mean by this? Is this some prank you two are pulling on me?”  
  
“Calm DOWN, Louis,” Harry drawls, always sounding as though he’s just woken up. “I think I’m catching something and I figured it’d be good to have someone from the band be at the event.”  
  
“Then have him take Niall! That bloke could out-drink half the party! Or Liam! Li could smile and be perky all damn night. Why do I have to do it?”  
  
“You don’t haaaaaaave to do it, Lou, I just figured you two would get along.”  
  
“Get along!?” Louis’ voice has now reached a pitch only dogs can hear. “I hate him! Every litl’ bitta him!”  
  
“Well, you know…get along in that ‘almost tear each other apart’ sense.”  
  
There’s a long pause while Louis huffs on one end of the line. Harry speaks again.  
  
“You really make him laugh, you know.”  
  
Louis’ tummy twists in the most awful of ways. He snorts, then huffs again, then sighs.  
  
“Fine. I’ll go with him to this stupid thing. But I’ll never forgive you, Harold!”  
  
Harry’s still laughing when Louis hangs up.

So, that’s how Louis ends up at the party where he resolutely was avoiding Nick, making all other kinds of rounds while Nick hovered by the cheese plates, looking beyond ostentatious with some stupidly loud-printed shirt and shoes that cost more than even Louis could consider spending. Louis can’t stand him. That is, until Nick grabs him by the elbow and yanks him over behind a pillar.  
  
“What is your problem, Tomlinson?” Nick’s height is terrifying when they’re chest to chest. Louis isn’t used to feeling small.  
  
“Problem? What problem? Just having a nice night out…seeing and being seen…” Louis’ not sure if Nick will get the joke.  
  
Nick does not get the joke. Or, at least, he doesn’t laugh.  
  
“I thought I was being quite kind by inviting you here, thought you and I could have a nice little night on the town…why are you being so dodgy?”  
  
Louis licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair.  
  
“I…um…god, I’m hot, isn’t there some other place we could go?”  
  
“Somewhere…else?” Nick’s eyes narrow, like he’s trying to make out bad handwriting.  
  
“Yeah, god, I dunno…I need some air…” Louis isn’t exactly deflecting – his face feels hot, his palms suddenly sweaty.  
  
Nick blinks, face giving nothing away, and turns. “There’s always a few unused back rooms…c’mon…”  
  
And with that, Nick is whisking him away to some deserted back room with just a couple of couches and a door that locks from the inside.  
  
All it takes is the click of the doorknob and Nick turning to face him before Louis pounces.  
  
To give Nick credit, he takes the kissing in stride, not even a hum of surprise that some world-renowed popstar is suddenly into lads. Louis hopes this isn’t because he knew…he couldn’t know, right? Harry wouldn’t tell him. Of course not. He’s being ridiculous.  
  
“Harry didn’t…Harry didn’t tell you…about me, right?”  
  
The words somehow stumble out of Louis’ mouth as he pulls away to get air from the kiss.  
  
“Tell me what about you? The long-term liking-dick bit? No, that I assumed.” Nick settles back in the couch, stretching the arm that isn’t snaked around Louis’ waist. There’s an uncomfortable pause. “You two aren’t still a thing, right?”  
  
“Me and Harry? God, no,” Louis can’t explain fast enough. “That was a quick thing, we were young-“  
  
“Young and stupid and high on the insta-fame, yeah yeah yeah, I get it.” Nick waves it off as if it was textbook. “Now, about you and me…”  
  
In one fluid motion, Nick pulls him into his chest and flips them. Louis sprawls on his back, slowly being pressed into the couch by Nick, who’s now planting wet kisses across the cursive on his collarbones.  
  
“I had a few ideas….”  
  
Yes, Nick Grimshaw’s big, fat mouth just keeps getting Louis into trouble…

So, that’s how Louis starts being fuckbuddies with Nick Grimshaw. That night, after the rest of the guests had filed out, Louis had practically dragged Nick into a cab, and ended up on his knees in his own damn foyer, sucking Nick until he came with a shout.  
  
“Jesus…Tomlinson…” Nick had croaked, eyes buried in the crook of his elbow, whole of his body weight leaning against the front door. Louis just winked and scampered toward the bedroom, pushing down his squeal of glee when he heard Nick thundering behind him.  
  
And so started a long peel of late nights and forgotten mornings. Louis can’t lie – this whole “breakfast show” concept is truly awful. He knows Nick is living his dream, glad to see him happy to wake up (to an atrociously early alarm) at 5am, all that. What’s more remarkable is how easily Nick is happy to give up any possibility of sleep if sex is involved. After the first party, it had taken Louis a full week to work up the nerve to text Nick – just a simple “hey prettyboy, whatre u up to 2nite” – and Nick had responded before Louis put his phone down.  
  
_Nothing much at all, Tomlinson! Why, did you have some more devilish ideas? ;]]]_  
  
Louis can’t imagine texting full words, let alone sentences of that length. With the word “devilish.” But there’s something about Nick and his conversations that keeps Louis coming back every time. Even after that first night – which started under the guise of watching some movie and ended with Nick giving Louis a truly life-changing blowjob (which Louis would never readily admit) – Louis found himself picking up his phone more often than usual. Sure, there was a good bit of sexting – Louis’ favorite activity when Nick was live on the radio – but there was also just a collection of…banter? Louis wasn’t sure how he felt.  
  
_Tommo! How is your evening going?_  
  
Louis’ phone buzzes with the message and he stands in front of his fridge, barefoot and wearing just a pair of joggers.  
  
_nuthin excitinggg just makin dinner. U?  
  
You? Pretty popstar preparing dinner for yourself? What is on the menu for tonight?_  
  
Louis does his best to ignore the swoop in his stomach at the word “pretty” and focuses more on how Nick wholly managed to avoid talking about himself. A rarity, for sure.  
  
_probs leftover chinese, I reckon, some cereal for a snack l8r  
  
Tomlinson you’re a right disgrace! I’m coming over with something edible!!! Xx_  
  
Louis practically drops his takeaway box in the glow of the fridge. Sure, they had been over to each other’s houses several times, but never for anything more than a quick shag. This sounded horrifyingly like…a date.  
  
Louis shoves the leftovers back on a shelf and dashes to his bedroom. He spends a few minutes frantically opening and closing drawers, catching his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his fringe. Should he change? Do his hair? Is this a proper dinner date? God, he hasn’t showered in days…  
  
With a huff, he flops facedown on the bed and breathes out. His phone is still clutched in his hand.  
  
He hits the outgoing call to Harry before he knows what he’s doing.  
  
“Hullo?”  
  
Louis truly can never tell if Harry is fully conscious.  
  
“Harold! I’m in a predicament!”  
  
“Whut? Wuzz wrong?” Harry actually manages to sound panicked.  
  
“Nick Grimshaw is coming to my house! To cook me dinner!”  
  
“That’s your problem?”  
  
Louis can hear the grin in Harry’s voice.  
  
“I don’t appreciate the levity with which you’re taking this!”  
  
Harry’s giggle crackles over the line.  
  
“You liiiiiiiiiiiiiike him, don’t you?”  
  
“I do /not/ like him!”  
  
Harry gasps.  
  
“Wait! I’ve barely seen you since that Radio1 night! Has this really been going on since then? Are you two boyfriends now?”  
  
“We are not boyfriends!!!” Louis screeches, and, just like that, the doorbell rings. Louis lets out a groan. “You are utterly useless.”  
  
“That’s him, innit? Oooo, go have fun with your boyyyyyfriend!”  
  
Louis hangs up on him.  
  
He realizes he’s still shirtless when he opens the door to see Nick beaming, clutching a paper bag of what appear to be groceries.  
  
“Oh, well, don’t get all dressed up for little ol’ me!” Nick chides as he dances over the threshold. He waltzes over to the counter and starts unloading various containers and bags.  
  
Louis pushes his door shut, still a bit in shock.  
  
“What…what are you doing?”  
  
“Just making you dinner, silly!” Nick doesn’t look up from his work and starts flitting around the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans. “Figured you shouldn’t be here alone, eating takeaway.”  
  
Louis opens his mouth, then closes it.  
  
“What?” Nick’s smile deflates, a tuft of herbs in each hand.  
  
“You just…you know what this looks like, right?”  
  
Nick looks at his pile of groceries, then the open fridge.  
  
“Gnocchi with mushrooms? I mean, you have to give me a couple hours before it’ll _look_ like that, but…”  
  
Louis rolls his eyes and decides then and there to ignore the fact that Nick was a) this eager about making pasta from scratch and b) that he happened to have the groceries floating around his house. He forges ahead, eyes glued on the ceiling. Deep breath.  
  
“You making me dinner, Nick. What does that look like.”  
  
Louis starts as he feels Nick invade his space. Their chests are almost touching as Nick leans over him, making his face come into Louis’ upward view.  
  
“What do you want it to look like, pumpkin?”  
  
If Louis looks back any further, he’s going to get a view of his own brain.  
  
“I dunno…”  
  
Nick is grinning now, positively looming over him.  
  
“I think you know, Tomlinson.”  
  
“Who says, Grimshaw.”  
  
“I do. I think you wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t know what you want.”  
  
_Dammit, he’s right._ The thought flashes across Louis’ mind but he’s not about to give in that easily.  
  
“In fact,” Nick continues, “I think you wouldn’t bring it up unless you knew what you wanted _and_ you also wanted it to be something more.”  
  
Louis’ mouth is bone dry. He still can’t make himself look at Nick.  
  
“So…that’s what you think? You think I want to _date_ you.”  
  
“Oh babe.” Nick leans down and kisses Louis. It’s the tenderest kiss he’s ever gotten. Nick pulls away to look at him again and there’s pure pity in his eyes. “I think you want me to be your boyfriend.”  
  
Louis’ throat is tight but he still managed to scoff.  
  
“You’re an ass, Nick Grimshaw.”  
  
Nick gathers him up in his arms and peppers the top of his head with a flurry of kisses. Louis blushes and allows himself to be yanked toward the bedroom, gnocchi forgotten.  
_You’re an ass, but you’re_ not wrong. 

 

It’s only a few weeks later when Grimshaw’s mouth digs in deep again.  
  
It’s the end of some house party at Nick’s and everyone is slowly trickling out. Of course all of 1D is there in force (rather than just Harry) and Louis mostly sticks near them, not quite sure how to handle all of Nick’s ritzy friends. He and Nick haven’t actually advertised their relationship yet, just to the closest of friends, so they dance in and out of each other’s reach all night. Unspoken but not forgotten, and all that.  
  
Eventually, it’s down to just Nick, Harry, and Louis. Louis is pleasantly drunk, splayed out on Nick’s couch with Harry half flopped on him. Louis keeps running his fingers through Harry’s long, dark curls and humming to himself. Nick’s parked in his favorite high-backed chair, contemplating his wine and sneaking glances at the other two. It’s cute, him pretending not to look.  
  
Then, Louis’ libido gets the best of him.  
  
“Well, young Harold, it’s best if we set you up in one of the guest bedrooms…you see, Nicklas and I have…plans…” Louis sneaks an over-exaggerated wink at Nick.  
  
“Aw nooooooo,” Harry whines, digging his head back into Louis’ tummy. “I feel left out!”  
  
“I mean, you’re welcome to come and join.”  
  
Louis and Harry both stiffen and jerk their heads over at Nick. To be quite honest, he hadn’t realized the words left his mouth – he had been thinking them, thinking them quite hard actually, but would not have volunteered it without clearing it with Louis first. Goddamn, they had only been exclusive for a few weeks, and here he was –  
  
“You…you’d be okay with that?” Louis speaks up first, his hands never having left Harry’s hair.  
  
“I mean…I…” Nick takes a gulp of his wine. He’s not sure how he’ll talk his way out of this one – a rarity, for him. “Yeah. If you are, I am, too.”  
  
There’s a long, stifling pause.  
  
“Uhm, excuse me, I’d like to be consulted!” Harry pipes up, fake-affronted. They all burst out laughing.  
  
But, it’s all a bit muddled when Louis eventually pulls Harry up off the couch and jerks his head toward the bedroom. Harry, knowing his place, scampers off, already shedding his floral shirt on the way.  
  
Louis strides over to Nick and laces his arms around him.  
  
“Are you sure this is alright?”  
  
Nick looks down and brushes his thumb over Louis’ cheekbone.  
  
“I was about to ask you the same thing. I mean, I know you and him have history but…”  
  
“I mean, so do you two…”  
  
Nick’s eyes narrow. He had been hoping Harry hadn’t spread word about the couple of drunken kisses they’d exchanged over the years. Then again, every day he learns how few secrets this band can keep from one another.  
  
“So I guess it makes perfect sense that this would happen then, alright?” Nick tries a smile. Yes, of course they should have discussed this first, but also they’re all a bit drunk. And horny. And there’s nothing that can’t be weeded out in the morning. He hopes. “Let’s just go enjoy ourselves and see where it goes, alright?”  
  
Louis beams at that.  
  
When they finally get to the bedroom, Harry is down to his boxers and sitting crosslegged in the middle of Nick’s massive bed.  
  
“I was beginning to think this was all a practical joke or summat,” he says, a self-conscious smile playing at his lips.  
  
“Oh Harold, I would never be so cruel…or unoriginal,” Louis coos, kneeing his way across the bed. Nick pulls off Louis’ socks before they touch his duvet. He can only imagine where those have been. Louis kicks absentmindedly at the contact but then he’s made it to Harry and the two are slotting together as if X Factor had been last week. Nick is caught off guard for a second, Louis’ socks bunched up in one hand and the other on his own flies. It’s something about Louis arching tall over Harry, licking into his mouth and running his fingers continually through all that hair. Nick is not prepared for this.  
  
While the two popstars kiss, Nick busies himself shucking off the rest of his kit and clicking on his stereo system. As he flicks through various folders – how has he been a DJ this long and never thought to make a sex playlist? – he keeps edging a glimpse here or there at the two figures on the bed. Louis has pressed Harry into the mattress now and is starting to kiss down his neck, open-mouthed and controlled. During one of Nick’s covert glances, he catches Harry’s eyes, blown out and wild, looking back at him with pure ecstasy. Oh fuck, this was too good of an idea.  
By the time Nick can’t fiddle with the music any longer, Louis has worked his way down Harry’s body and is now biting marks into the stems of each laurel.  
  
“You didn’t have these, then, babe. I like ‘em,” Louis comments around Harry’s skin, calm as anything. Harry hums in response and Nick’s knees go weak. He will not be able to hold his own tonight, of that he is certain. But he’ll do his damndest.  
  
“Lads? I feel a bit left out over here.” He says it with a smile, but there’s no mistaking the edge of tentativeness around the statement.  
  
Louis jerks up in an instant, eyes twinkling.  
  
“Grimshaw, get your ass over here.”  
  
Nick flushes but edges his way on the bed.  
  
“Good. Now, why don’t you give Harold a kiss for me while I get this all off?”  
  
Nick chuckles at the sight of Louis, fully clothed, while he and Harry are just in pants. He shrugs and leans in to connect with Harry, who sighs at the contact.  
  
Nick loves kissing. It’s one of those things he loves doing just with friends, when they’re both bored or drunk or whatever. He’s kissed both Harry and Louis but this feels…different. Charged. Harry hasn’t even laid a hand on him yet, just supporting his own weight on his wrists. Nick lifts a hand, hesitating, just as he feels Louis’ small hand slip into the front of his boxers. He gasps into Harry’s mouth, surprised at the contact, and even more surprised as Louis’ other hand slides up to tweak Nick’s nipple. Nick’s already feeling overwhelmed and he’s not even fully naked yet.   
Meanwhile, Harry starts kissing down Nick’s neck and Nick can eventually hear the two boys snogging over his shoulder. Louis keeps his pace steady as he wanks Nick, occasionally adjusting his position as he kneels behind him. It’s outrageously hot, Harry going from kissing Louis to kissing Nick and back again. That, coupled with Louis’ incredible hand-work has Nick gasping, leaning his head back on Louis’ shoulder.  
  
“Ah, fuck- Lou, ease up, otherwise this night will end _very_ early…” Nick chokes out, and both of the other boys chuckle. With a bit of a shove, Louis knocks Nick onto his back and curls his fingers into the band of Nick’s boxers. Nick’s caught off guard for a minute at the vision of Louis, naked and curled over him, grinning. He looks angelic.  
  
“Fine, fine, fine, Nicholas, we’ll go easy,” Louis reasons, peeling Nick’s pants off. “What do you want to do, then?”  
Nick runs a hand down Louis’ back, feeling the bumps of his spine through his tanned skin. His hand lingers right above Louis’ tailbone, then dips to the curve of his arse. Louis shivers.  
  
“Please let me eat you out, please. Sit on my face.” Nick can’t keep the begging out of his voice.  
  
Louis smiles again and scoots up, hovering over Nick. They both pause, but then Nick reaches up to grip the tops of Louis’ thighs and pulls him down.  
  
Deep down, (deep, deeeeep down,) Louis loves being teased. It’s been a cornerstone of the last few weeks, of Nick bringing Louis to the edge only to go back to light touches, or even let go of him completely. And even though there may be murder in his eyes in the moment, it makes the eventual orgasm seem to last days. But tonight, Nick doesn’t even have the patience. After a few light licks, he begins fucking his tongue inside, gripping harder when Louis tries to squirm away. Beautiful little moans spill out every time Nick changes angles or sinks his fingers deeper into the muscles of Louis’ thighs.  
  
It’s just as Nick was beginning to wonder what happened to Harry that he feels a featherlight touch stroke up his leg. He twitches a bit, gasping around Louis but not wriggling away. The touch turns into thick, open kisses, snaking their way up his thigh and to his hipbone and Nick’s eyes roll back in his head as he feels them go closer to his cock. Then, he can feel Harry nuzzling at his balls, planting more timid, quick kisses all around his pubic bone but not where Nick needs it most. Louis is still writhing above him, clutching the headboard and rocking against Nick’s mouth whenever he can get purchase. It’s all so much.  
  
Finally, finally, _finally_ , Harry takes Nick into his mouth. Nick has to pull away from Louis at that, letting out a moan of his own. It’s like a chain reaction, with Louis whimpering above him and Harry moaning around his dick. Nick clamps his eyes shut, doing his best to not come on the spot. He goes back to Louis, running a hand up to cup his balls, toying with the hair at the base of his cock.  
  
“Fuck Nick, fuck, I’m gonna-“  
  
Louis can’t even get the full sentence out before he’s spilling, aiming away from the headboard at the last second as he grips himself, pulling himself through it. Nick barely gives himself a flare of satisfaction before he realizes just how talented Harry is with his tongue. It seems like he’s been holding back the whole time, waiting for Nick to finish with Louis. But now, he ducks down, taking Nick deep into the back of his throat. Nick can’t help himself; he flops a hand down to bury in Harry’s curls, doing his best not to hold him against his cock. That image itself makes his belly twist. _Another day, another day…_  
  
It’s only a few moments later that Nick feels another tongue at his cock, licking where Harry’s mouth can’t quite reach. Nick lets out a sigh.  
  
“Louis, you _menace._ ” He hears a snicker from below and sneaks his hand into the other lad’s hair, just for spite. Then, the two of them start to work in tandem, taking turns swallowing Nick down or both licking up in coordinated movement. He’s been trying to hold off for what seems like hours, not wanting to finish too soon.  
  
“Shit, I just, fuck, I…” Nick always gets loud. It’s one of Louis’ favorite things about him, getting him so worked up he’s crying Louis’ name by the time he’s finally over the edge. This time, it’s a long buildup, all of the tension from earlier in the night paying off. Nick feels like he has tunnel vision, still letting out a stream of curses. He’s close, so close, when he hears a whimper, and then a gasp. He forces his eyes open just in time to see the sight. Louis, mouth still wrapped about Nick’s cock, frantically wanking Harry, who’s coming in long streams all over Nick’s stomach. Well, that does it. Nick throws his head back and comes harder than he has in months, shooting down Louis’ throat. It seems to last minutes, Nick and Harry both breathing heavy in the now-quiet room. When Nick finally recovers, sitting up on his elbows, he sees Louis sitting cross-legged, grinning for all it’s worth.  
  
“Well, that was certainly fun, wasn’t it?” he chirps.  
  
“I’m getting too old for this,” Nick groans, and falls back against the pillows.  
  
That night, they all sleep together, cuddled in Nick’s bed. He somehow ends up in the middle, with a squirmy, kicking Louis on one side and a snoring, dead-weight Harry on the other. He doesn’t mind. 

 

Harry isn’t really sure how to deal the next couple weeks. Not to say they aren’t the best two weeks of his life – they are. Like, hands-down certainty. Well, maybe except for the sold out Madison Square garden thing. Or maybe some of the #1 album weeks. Whatever, fuck it. It’s a good couple weeks.  
  
After that first night, he never really leaves Nick’s bed. None of them do. Well, at least, not if they can help it. Nick crawls out for work, doing his best not to wake them with his outrageous alarm. Louis tries to schedule writing time with Liam and label work over Nick’s absence, figuring syncing up their schedules would make everything easier. And, as for Harry…he just settles in. That’s all he ever really wants to do on break anyway – just sit back with some friends and some tea and relax.  
  
So, routine dawns on them, somehow. Nick’s up at 5.30, makes tea for each of them and plants quick forehead kisses as he dashes out before the sun rises. The first of Louis’ fifteen alarms goes off around eight and usually culminates in an exasperated Liam calling him saying he’s already at the studio. Louis eventually trundles off around nine, also giving Harry a kiss. After that, it’s just Harry in Nick’s spacious flat. It makes the most sense for them to stay here – way less paps, most convenient for Nick who has the most work (at this juncture in time), familiar to both Louis and Harry. Plus, Harry has always just liked Nick’s flat. It’s lived in, loved, which is something neither Louis nor Harry can ever seem to accomplish in whatever place they purchase. They’re never anywhere long enough for it to feel like home.  
  
But this, Harry thinks, curled on Nick’s sofa in just a robe, this is nice. He’s sipping on one of the kale smoothies he made – other one tucked in the fridge for Nick, and Harry knows better than to attempt to offer one to Louis – and sunlight’s streaming in through one of the windows.  
  
It’s been a blind blur of late nights and intense orgasms and fucked-out cuddling and Harry can’t seem to keep up. He’d known Louis and Nick were together, had sensed it was something Big from any of Louis’ frantic phone calls, but didn’t anticipate their sexual relationship to include him. He’s incredibly grateful. Sleeping with Louis is a step into his past, everything that’s comforting, everything that’s what made him fall for Louis in the first place; sleeping with Nick is a step into his future, being out, being able to be with someone stable and supportive. He can’t untangle his love for the two of them. For now, he’s content to just fuck both of them senseless. Yes, perfect solution.  
  
But, he can’t shake the date approaching on the calendar: another world tour. Another traipse across the globe. They just have a week before they leave and he’s not really sure what this whole thing is hurtling towards.  
  
As if the universe was answering him in both subject matter and intensity, Louis throws himself through the door and collapses onto the couch.  
  
“Fucking hell, Payno needs to _relax_. I swear to fucking God, he is flipping his shit about this album – and not in a good way.” His voice is a little muffled from the pillows but Harry just grins and leans over to ruffle his hair.  
  
“I’m sure it’ll all pay off in the long run.”  
  
Louis pops up on his elbows and looks utterly exhausted.  
  
“Shit, it better. Where’s Nick?”  
  
Harry smiles at that. Louis is the only person that calls Grim by his first name. It’s adorable…in a sickening sort of way.  
  
“You beat him home, for once. Must’ve gotten caught up in a production meeting.”  
Louis hums his acknowledgment and heads into the kitchen. Harry grits his teeth. Best to bring it up with Louis first…now or never.  
  
“Hey Lou?”  
  
“Yes, Harold?”  
  
Harry rises from the couch, suddenly nervous.  
  
“What are…we?” he finishes lamely. Louis closes the fridge door and turns, can of soda in his hand.  
  
“Uhm. We? Or, er, _we_?”  
  
Harry giggles a bit. He understands, but it’s all so…complicated.  
  
“I don’t know. You and Nick were exclusive, but now I’m in the mix, and I don’t…I don’t know what that means.” Harry sounds out the words and they’re all in the right order, they all make sense, but they don’t…feel right. He doesn’t know what he wants to say.  
  
“I, uh…I dunno, Haz. We might wanna wait for Nick on this one.”  
  
“Wait for me why?”  
  
Harry and Louis both jump comically high at the voice and whirl around to see Nick standing in his foyer, grocery bags in hand.  
  
“Jesus, you are a skittish bunch…just me! In my own house! No worries here!” He chuckles to himself and starts unloading ingredients on the breakfast bar. “Now, I thought we could do a big brunch, I was absolutely starving at work, I hope neither of you have filled up on anything…”  
  
Harry glances over at Louis, who is currently staring at the grocery bags like they hold the meaning to life. A hand is clamped over his mouth and Harry can’t tell if he’s about to faint or burst into laughter.  
  
“We’ve got eggs, toast, some avocado…”  
  
“Nick…”  
  
“Harry, do you like avocado? I’ve been trying to get Lou into it for ages but he won’t touch the stuff…”  
  
“ _Nick!_ ”  
  
Nick is snapped out of his brunch mutterings and turns to Harry who’s kneeling over the couch now, almost frantic.  
  
“Well, what, Harold?”  
  
Harry clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. Louis is still being supremely unhelpful, trying to smother himself with both hands. It’s Harry’s job, now.  
  
“I was just speaking to Louis, and…I feel like we should straighten out what we are.”  
  
Nick turns around to look at Louis, then glances back at Harry.  
  
“What this is, you mean.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
There’s a long pause and all of them regard each other. Nick eventually clears his throat a little too loudly.  
  
“Well, I mean, I guess…I dunno! I just…this all started…and…I’m very, I mean, I’ve always…”  
  
“I can _not_ believe that cooking is your _thing_ , Nicholas!”  
  
Both Harry and Nick startle at Louis’ outburst.  
  
“Er…what?” Nick asks.  
  
“Back when you first wanted to be my boyfriend, you barged in on me and attempted to make me dinner! And here! Now! That’s exactly what you’re doing!”  
  
“I…I didn’t…”  
  
There’s a flush working its way out of Nick’s collar now and Harry tries to hold back a smirk. It is very Nick.  
  
“You want Harold to be your boyfriend!” Louis grins maniacally and points across the room at Harry. “Fuck, you want him to be _our_ boyfriend!”  
  
Nick purses his lips and tosses an onion back in the bag.  
  
“Well, you know my secret.”  
  
Louis smiles with all of his teeth and leans forward to plant a big smacking kiss on Nick’s cheek. They both turn to look at Harry, expectant.  
  
He can feel himself beginning to flush, now.  
  
“I mean…I’m here if you’ll have me.”  
  
He wonders if they practice rolling their eyes in unison, or if this time is just by chance. 

 

The final week the sex is relentless. Nick is well aware it will be many weeks before he will get to see the two pop starts in the flesh, meaning he needs to make as many memories as possible in the meantime. After he triple-locks his iCloud, he floats the idea of taking some photos and the boys are stupidly game. So game, in fact, that Louis plucks Nick’s phone from him and declares they can tape the whole thing.  
  
“What do you want? Me blowing you? Harry blowing you while I eat you out? Harry blowing you while I fuck him? What?”  
  
Nick’s knees go weak and he lies down on the bed for a moment while Louis just swipes through Nick’s phone with a hand on his hip, toe tapping impatiently.  
  
They do all of it. Nick documents some of it, but after a couple good videos and a few explicit photos, he tries to keep his phone on the nightstand. Instead, he attempts to burn it all into his memory: Louis riding him while Harry guides his hips from behind, Harry eating Nick out while he and Louis passionately snog, Nick jerking Louis while he’s filled up with Harry…it’s all so much, so quick.  
  
And it’s not just all the sex. It’s the long, steamy showers started under the pretense of cleaning them up but always ending in a bubble fight. It’s the perfect slot of the two of them against him every night, nuzzling into him, their fingers laced over his stomach. It’s the wretchedly early mornings when he has to leave the two of them, the mumbled goodbyes hinted with morning breath. He’s overwhelmed with it all, this ridiculous fondness for two people that hits him like a freight train whenever he casts a sideways glance.  
  
And, truth be told, he’s worried. He knows that the boys always bond closer every tour, knows that traveling that much with the other three brings them all together. What if they decide that he’s not a necessary part of the equation?  
  
He does his best to push this out of his mind whenever he can, though. He focuses at the task at hand, whether it’s running another dreadful Call or Delete session or coming home to two sleepy popstars naked on his couch. Hell, he could have it worse. 

The last night before tour pickup, they’re all sleeping at Nick’s. Harry and Louis’ bags are all packed and piled at the door. Nick wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating. Both Harry and Louis run a few degrees hotter than him and he can never sleep through it. He carefully unfurls Louis’ grip on his hip and ducks from Harry’s arm slung around his neck before he can slip into the bathroom for a wee. Afterwards, he stumbles toward the kitchen, hoping a cup of tea to calm him down. Fuck Louis for creating his newfound tea addiction.  
  
It’s just as he puts the kettle on that he hears a soft cough. He starts and turns around to see Harry illuminated in the moonlight, leaning against the counter. As per usual, he’s naked as the day he was born. It’s distracting, honestly.  
  
“You’re up late.”  
  
Nicks rubs his eyes and turns back to the kettle.  
  
“Yeah, you popstars really make sleeping a full contact sport.”  
  
“You know that’s all Louis.”  
  
Nick shrugs noncommittally. He feels Harry’s arms wrap around his waist and leans back into his chest.  
  
“He’s really going to miss you.”  
  
Harry’s voice is softer now, speaking directly into the crook of Nick’s neck.  
  
“Oh, just him, huh?”  
  
“Heyyyyyyy, you know what I mean.”  
  
Nick smiles a bit sadly, pouring some of the boiling water into two mugs.  
  
“I guess…I guess I’m afraid of you two realizing you don’t need me. This is going to be really hard and…I wouldn’t blame you, you know…”  
  
Harry lays a hand over Nick’s, stopping his frantic teabag-dunking. He slowly turns Nick around to face him, cupping Nick’s face in both hands.  
  
“You know that’s not going to happen, right? Louis and I have toured together for years, but we both love being with you. You make this so, so much better. It will work, okay?”  
  
Nick can’t believe Harry was able to string that many words together so quickly. But he’s also touched.  
  
He can’t quite meets Harry’s eyes as he says, “Thank you. It means a lot.”  
  
At that, Harry yanks him into a bone-crushing hug. His mouth is at Nick’s ear as he whispers, “For the record, I’ll miss you too.”  
  
Nick smiles and kisses the top of his curls. Two seconds later, all the kitchen lights flick on.  
  
“Oi, what the fuck is this? Late night cuddles and I _wasn’t invited?!_ ”  
  
Nick and Harry both turn to see Louis, hair sticking up in five different directions, wearing just a pair of low-slung trackies and looking murderous. There’s a beat and then he breaks into a smirk and tackles the two of them in another squeak-inducing hug. They both chuckle and run a hand through his hair. Even then, at two in the morning, with Louis stealing gulps of their tea while sitting on the counter and Harry doing impressions of fans even with his willy bouncing about and Nick crying laughing into his mug, he knows this is not some weird relational experiment. It’s only been a few weeks and he’s already hopelessly fallen for both of them. Great. 

They leave at dawn. The three of them had been up practically all night, not really able to sleep again after the late-night tea session and not really wanting to either. Nick sort of wishes he was half asleep for the goodbye. Louis just kisses him quick, averts his eyes, and grabs his bag to stand at the door. Harry just hugs Nick for a full minute, murmuring all about how he’ll send him stuff at every stop, how they’ll be back in just a month or two, how much he’ll miss him. Nick squeezes extra hard and pulls him into a kiss at the end, deep and trying to say everything he can’t. Eventually, Harry pulls away and Nick looks back at Louis who’s just picking at a string on his duffel bag.  
  
“Well, we better be going then,” Harry says, looking at Louis pointedly. Louis shrugs and Harry rolls his eyes, shooting a sad smile back at Nick and opening the door. Nick actually watches it shut behind the two of them and has barely turned on his heel before he feels a force hit him in the back. Arms wrap around him and there’s a voice muffled into the middle of his back.  
  
“Sorry sorry sorry I didn’t…I don’t know…I just…”  
  
Nick turns to face Louis. He looks wrecked, worrying his lower lip between his teeth and eyes squeezed shut. Nick just gathers him up in his arms, choking down the lump in his throat.  
  
“It’s fine you wanker, I’ll miss you too.”  
  
Louis laughs, then hiccups, then sneaks the quickest of kisses to the underside of Nick’s jaw before saying, “I’ll call you every day!” and sprinting out the door.  
  
Well, of course. 

The first week is…odd.  
  
Not even necessarily _bad_ , just very, very strange. Practically living with Harry and Louis for weeks on end is a very difficult thing to quit cold turkey. But, he does his best. He starts a calendar counting down the days until they’re home. (Twenty six until a three day break, fifty one until the end of a leg of tour.) He calls all of his friends and schedules them in for lunches and dinners and drinks – every moment that he’s with someone is one more moment he doesn’t have to think of his boys. Or, at least, it’s a moment that he can try not to think of his boys. (They never really leave his mind.)  
  
And, of course, he waits for their calls.  
  
The first few days are just adjusting periods. They call on speaker in their hotel rooms, talk about the crowds, poke fun at each other with the occasionally sound of a slap and Harry’s dulcet _Louis, that_ really _hurt._ Nick smiles through all of it, adding in bits about his day and jokes here and there. They usually call late at night or early morning for them, after they’ve showered and settled in for the night. It’s right when Nick gets out of work and he loves the anticipation of it, the knowledge that once he does his final sign off he can hear both of his boyfriends through the phone a million miles away.  
  
But, it’s only a week in that everyone gets a little feisty. Nick gets the call around nine at night, having just put a tipsy Gillian to bed, and sees Louis’ face flash on his phone. That’s odd – it would be in the early afternoon for them. He answers anyway.  
  
“Hiya?”  
  
There’s just a muffled bit of panting on the other line and Nick’s dick immediately twitches to attention. _Oh shit, they did not just…_  
  
Then, there’s a whine, unmistakably Harry’s, and Nick has to sit down. Louis’ voice comes over the line next, breathless and fierce.  
  
“Tell him he can come, Nick. He’s been holding off for aaaaages and he’s desperate…”  
  
Nick sinks back into the couch, popping his jeans button open and putting a hand on himself.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know Louis, what do you think?”  
  
Louis snickers a bit and Nick can hear the rough sound of skin on skin even through the phone. He must be on speaker.  
  
“I said that we should call you and you have to come first. What do you say to that?”  
  
“Yes,” Nick croaks out, licking his hand and touching himself properly now.  
  
“Harold, that okay with you?” Louis asks, voice sickly sweet.  
  
“Mrgh…Lou…Louis I just…”  
  
“What, sweetheart?”  
  
Nick can’t hear the slick sounds of them together anymore, can picture Louis easing up his hand, just teasing Harry with featherlight touches now, Harry dripping all over himself. He jerks himself even harder at the thought.  
  
“I just…I… _Nick_ …” Harry moans.  
  
“I know babe, I miss him too.”  
  
Nick’s heart breaks but he can’t bring himself to say anything, pulls himself toward his orgasm as he listens to the wet sound of the two snogging.  
  
Finally, Louis’ voice again, still a bit high.  
  
“He’s been so good Nick, he’s been on the edge for ages and wanted to wait for you…”  
  
Nick groans and a few beads of precome spill out of him.  
  
“…he wanted to hear your voice when he came…wanted to hear you fall apart first…”  
  
Nick gasps at that, his hand a blur on his cock, both feet planted on the floor for support as he tips toward the edge.  
  
“Nick…Nick Nick Niiiiiick, _Nick_ …” It’s Harry’s voice now, desperate as anything, begging Nick’s name out with every breath, and that does it. Nick’s orgasm punches its way out with force, leaving him breathless and coming into his hand with a whimper. Just as the aftershocks are fading, he almost whispers into the phone.  
  
“Okay love, come for me…come for me and Lou…”  
  
Before Nick is even done with the sentence, he hears Harry’s keening whine and can just picture the boy coming all over himself, still murmuring Nick’s name. Less than a minute after his own orgasm, that thought still sends a flare of arousal through him.  
  
Now the other line has dulled to just the steady breathing of the two of them and Nick’s wondering if they’re already asleep.  
  
“Hey,” Louis say eventually. “Thanks…we both miss you like crazy and figured you needed a reminder.”  
  
Nick looks down at himself, limp dick still in hand and streaked with come.  
  
“Yeah…it worked beautifully.” He hears Louis’ snicker through the phone and then a click. He pulls the phone away from his ear. Louis had ended the call, just like that.  
  
“Fuck,” Nick whispers to the empty room, and flops back on the bed, not even bothering to clean himself up. 

Everyone knows Louis has a difficult time on tour. He’s always been the type that wants to make things _home_ , wants to really settle in somewhere. It’s why he sleeps on the bus. It’s why he bonds with all of his mates and his security so quickly. He nests. He just does.  
  
And, well, tour isn’t designed for that.  
  
But honestly, the whole NickandHarry thing makes it…liveable. He likes the consistency of calling Nick, loves that he can rely on Harry for a quick shag again, loves all the memories they made in before tour and quivers in anticipation of all the ones they’ll make on break. (They already have flights booked for London in less than a week. He can’t wait.)  
  
But…Harry takes it pretty hard. He’s been like that since the first week, each day receding a bit farther into his shell. Even with all the calls and texts and Louis holding him tight every night, he’s despondent. One words answers when Nick texts him a question. Shrugging when Louis asks him if he’d like to phone Nick. Louis does his best – prodding him into calling, giving him a long cuddle every night as they fall asleep, telling him in whispers how much Nick must miss them – but nothing seems to help. If anything, Harry slips farther and farther away, even out of Louis’ grasp.  
  
Louis isn’t sure what to do and winces when he sees a tweet of Nick’s during their third week apart.  
  
_funny how you think your closest friends actually care??? psh_  
  
Louis rolls his eyes. First, if Nick needed a lesson in subtweeting, Louis is certain he could teach the class, but it’s not about that. He heads to Harry’s bunk, doing the math as he goes. Nick must’ve just woken up, but maybe the two of them could call him before the show, explain that the reason they’ve ignored his last couple calls were just because Harry’s felt under the weather…something like that. “Under the weather,” “being a total fucking twat”…same thing, right?  
  
Louis shakes Harry’s curtain gently. He’s taken to sleeping on the bus, for some stupid reason.  
  
“Haz? You awake?”  
  
“Am now.”  
  
Louis’ mouth settles in a firm line. If he inherited one thing from his mother, it’s a low tolerance for lip.  
  
“Nick’s been tweeting about us.”  
  
“I saw.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“Don’t care.”  
  
Louis leans against the bunks opposite, heaving out a sigh.  
  
“You can’t mean that.”  
  
“Can too.”  
  
Louis rubs his eyes, deciding to change tack.  
  
“Why don’t we just give him a call? Remind him how much we miss him? Let him know what we have planned for the London trip?”  
  
“I don’t want to go anymore.”  
  
“Harold, please…”  
  
“I’m not. I rebooked my ticket. I’ll be in LA.”  
  
Louis can’t take it anymore; he jerks the curtain over to see Harry, obviously wide awake, lying on his back in the bunk.  
  
“You _what?_ ”  
  
“I changed my ticket.”  
  
Louis fights to keep the tremble out of his voice.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Harry stares resolutely at his folded hands, his words coming out even slower than normal.  
  
“It’ll be…better without me. You two. It always has been.”  
  
Louis leans forward and laces his fingers with Harry’s. He gives them a light tug, hoping Harry will glance up at him. He doesn’t.  
  
“Hazza, how can you think that? You know that’s not true. You know that’s not it at all.”  
  
Harry just shakes his head.  
  
“Nick and I are nuts about you, Harold. Always have been. You make the two of us even better. How can you not see that?”  
  
A tear trickles down Harry’s cheek and he yanks a hand out of Louis’ grip to catch it.  
  
“It’s just…so fucking hard. I’ve never done this, y’know? The long distance thing? Never missed anybody this badly…never knew I could…”  
  
He’s crying properly now, hiccupy sobs shaking out of him.  
  
“And he’s just so far away? I’ve been sending him postcards, bits and bobs from tour, but…it’s not the same. Nothing’s the same.”  
  
Louis’ sniffling now too, his throat clutching up against his will.  
  
“Oh babes…I’m so sorry…”  
  
Harry just shrugs, still wiping at his face. Louis toes off his Vans and clambers into the bunk next to Harry, gathering him up and running fingers through his curls. Once he calms down and eventually slips into a fitful sleep, Louis thumbs open his phone. He stares at the empty new message window, Nick’s name at the top of the screen, and thinks.  
  
_sry for the radio silence (hah) the past few days….we miss you like crazy, tho. sortin sum things out n then we’ll call. love you._  
  
He stares at the message a long time, until his phone light dims. Then, he deletes the last two words, and hits send.

Nick can’t deal with this right now. He’s on the radio, knowing that his energy is off, can feel Finchy’s stare on the back of his neck, and then his phone buzzes. Louis, with some lame arse excuse about “sorting things out.” Whatever. He knows this is all going exactly how he thought it would. Them. Without him. It’s fine, really.  
  
It’s not fine.  
  
He doesn’t even consider responding to the text until he’s out for the day. He dips into the shops for a quick chocolate bar and a bottle of wine – who knows how this night will go. When he finally ends up at home, phone open to the message screen, cursor blinking judgementally at him…he’s lost. What does he even say to that?  
  
He passes his fridge on the way to his bedroom; it’s peppered with various postcards from Harry. They’re all ridiculous – “Greetings From…” plastered over picturesque backgrounds in terrible fonts – and signed with only “xx, H.” He stares at the wall of them for a long moment before plucking each one off, setting them in a stack on his counter.  
  
None of this is fine.

Louis sleeps deeply, falling in and out of stress dreams that he can’t quite remember in the morning. Harry’s up before him, blustering around in the kitchenette making one of his disgusting smoothies. Louis lays in the bunk for a long while, listening to one of his boyfriends clutter around, and wondering what the other is up to. He checks his phone, but there’s nothing. By this time, Nick should certainly be out of work and have seen the message. How could he not respond?  
  
“Hazza?” Louis calls, head poking out of the bunk.  
  
Harry hums in response.  
  
“I think we should call Nick.”  
  
He whirls around at that.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Louis sighs and pushes his head back into the pillow.  
  
“Because I think we have some things to work out.”  
  
_You two have some things to work out,_ is what he wants to say, but he’s really trying here.  
  
“Why’s that?”  
  
Louis bites back a growl and kicks his way out of the bunk.  
  
“Because you were sobbing in my arms last night about how much you missed him! I think that’s something he needs to hear!”  
  
Harry scoffs and turns back to his blender.  
  
“You’re overreacting, Tommo, I was really emotional after the show last night, and…”  
  
“Oh, bull _shit_ Harry.”  
  
Harry glances up at that. It’s so rare that Louis uses ‘Harry.’ It’s always ‘Haz,’ ‘Hazza,’ or ‘Harold.’ Never ‘Harry.’  
  
“You are both so gone for each other but neither of you know how to be in a proper relationship. And here I am, trying to stitch you two back together every time we have a missed call. Can both of you _please_ grow up for the sake of all three of us?”  
  
Louis gestures wildly on the last sentence, hand knocking into the blender and knocking the contents into the sink.  
  
“Oh shit, I’m sorry, fuck.” He bends to try and rescue the last bit, but Harry puts a hand on his arm.  
  
“No, you’re right. We should call him.”  
  
“Harold, I just lost you all your kale nonsense, hold up…”  
  
“No, right now. I want to. For all of us.”  
  
Louis looks up, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in weeks.  
  
“Okay.”

Nick is grumpy. He’s on his second glass of wine – no mind the time – and he’s opened and closed his iPhone enough times to make his head hurt. He doesn’t know what to say. It feels forward to text back _Is this over?_ when he barely expected it to work in the first place. It’s just…messy. Who is he to be a part of such a long standing friendship, let alone try and turn it into a relationship? Ridiculous.  
  
That is, until his phone starts ringing. A FaceTime request from Louis Tomlinson? Deny, thank you very much. He waits a minute and the ringing comes back. _Ignore_  
  
Then, a text.  
  
_answer us you twat!!!!!!!! we wanna talk to u!!!!!!_  
  
Nick rolls his eyes. How this popstar managed to hit it big when he doesn’t have the spelling to complete year two…  
  
On the third try, Nick answers. His heart clenches when the video finally catches up, a grainy image of both his boyfriends topless, in what looks like their back lounge. God, if they’re going to break up with him, could they at least put clothes on?  
  
“Hiya,” he says weakly.  
  
“Hello!” Louis chirps in his false-cheery voice (Nick knows it very well by now).  
  
“Heyyyyy,” Harry adds, pulling a curl out of his eyes.  
  
There’s an awkward pause, and then all three of them start talking at once.  
  
“Harry wanted to –“  
  
“Nick, I just-“  
  
“You two, I can’t-“  
  
Another beat, and Louis sighs.  
  
“Harry misses you ridiculously, Nicholas. And you are being a dolt for thinking we don’t want to talk to you, we’re all just being wankers, I miss you both, even though this one’s right here…” at that, he leans over to tweak one of Harry’s nipples, “…and by that, I miss all of us _together._ Now, we can’t all be together all the time, but we might as well try and make this work now, shouldn’t we? Harold and I have off in less than a week, and we should make London the best three days ever, don’t you think?”  
  
A pause as Harry smiles up at the camera and Nick’s heart clenches.  
  
“My, Tommo, you certainly have taken on the role of mediator, haven’t you,” Nick croaks.  
  
“Ey, I’m an older brother of six, I’m used to breaking up fights between toddlers!”  
  
At that, Harry launches himself on top of Louis, which makes screams erupt from both of them. Nick laughs as the camera shakes and he gets an up close view of Louis’ face contorted in joyful pain. Harry appears to be tickling him within an inch of his life.  
  
“Hazza, Hazza, stop stop _stop_ , you’re going to make me wee, I swear to God!”  
  
Harry pops his head up, eyes aimed at the camera.  
  
“Grim, you into that?”  
  
Nick blushes down to his bellybutton but shakes his head.  
  
“Not now, Popstar, calm down.”  
  
Louis, flopped upside down, his fringe splayed out on the sofa, blows a raspberry.  
  
Nick doesn’t know how something can go from so serious to so ridiculous this quickly, but here they are. Together. 

It’s still a bit awkward when they land in London. They only have a stretch from Wednesday to Saturday between legs of the tour and Nick knew he could only afford to take Friday off – if only for the rumors it may start. So it’s to his immense surprise when he sags in his front door on Wednesday to find both of his boyfriends passed out on his couch. In just their boxers. Of course.  
  
He gives Harry’s big toe a shake. The boy startles and brushes a curtain of hair out of his eyes.  
  
“Whaddis it?”  
  
“You’re in my flat, Harold.” Nick attempts to sound stern, but it comes out amused. And fond. He can’t believe himself.  
  
“Yeh, I had the key you gave me ages ago. We were surprised it still worked.” Harry beams and gets socked in the chest by a still-semi-asleep Louis.  
  
“Shuddup, tryna sleep…”  
  
“Hello to you too, princess,” Nick says, pecking him on the forehead, and then leaning over to give Harry a soft kiss on the lips. There’s an apology in that kiss, one that Nick hopes Harry picks up on. Slowly but surely, they’re all learning this “communication” thing. Who would have thought Louis would teach them anything apart from arm fart technique.  
  
That night, they all fold together, all soft kisses and light touches. The two of them go down on Nick right at the start – he does his best to hold off, but comes embarrassingly quickly. They’re good sports, licking up the streaks off his belly and kissing each other in between. Louis produces a full bottle of lube out of his sports bag and Nick can’t help but laugh, imagining him stuffing it in his bag on the last day of tour.  
“Now see, Nicholas, what we’ve been working on…” Louis winks and turns to Harry. He grabs his jaw a bit roughly and looks him deep in the eyes.  
  
“Don’t come, okay Hazza?”  
  
Harry nods – a bit frantically – and closes his eyes. Louis drizzles his fingers with lube and jerks his head at Nick.  
  
“Well, go on then, give him a kiss. You miss him, don’t you?”  
  
Harry pokes an eye open, looking over at Nick a bit sheepishly.  
  
“So _bossy,_ Tomlinson,” Nick says, with just an edge of fondness. He leans over to catch Harry’s lips with his own, swallowing up Harry’s small moan as Louis begins to work a couple fingers inside him.  
  
“I know babes, he’s so good, isn’t he?” Nick murmurs, stroking his face with a free hand. He sneaks a quick glance down at Louis who’s sucking a hickey into Harry’s hipbone, two fingers inside him now.  
  
Harry nods again, a bit lost in it all, and Nick grabs his jaw to hold him, trying to remember how firmly Louis had it before. Harry positively groans at that, leaning into the contact and surging forward to deepen the kiss.  
  
_Well then,_ Nick thinks. _They certainly have been working on a few things._  
  
By the time Louis has him ready, Harry is already a mess, eyes a bit wild and sweat beading at his forehead. Louis pulls his fingers out and smears them on the sheets, ignoring Nick’s look of dismay at his just-cleaned duvet. Louis plucks a condom out of his bag and slides it on, adding some more lube and lining up against Harry’s hole.  
  
“Keep him occupied, will you, Nicholas?”  
  
Nick nods and moves to slot his lips with Harry’s, swallowing all the sweet little noises he makes as Louis begins to push in. It’s all so perfect: Harry’s mouth moving against his, the smacks of Louis thrusting just a couple feet away, the pants of breath coming from all three of them. He licks into Harry’s mouth just as Louis must’ve changed angles and Harry pulls away to arch against the mattress.  
  
“Hold his shoulders down a bit, Nick, he loves that…” Louis comments, sounding a bit out of breath but still in control. Nick follows instructions and Harry arches again against his touch, moaning even louder.  
  
“Fuck…yes…god, you two…I can’t…” Louis’ fringe is beginning to curl from all the sweat, his even thrusts fading into erratic. Nick decides he might try something.  
  
The two of them catch glances as Louis thrusts in again and Nick stares him down as he says, “Come. Now.”  
  
Practically on command, Louis’ orgasm punches out of him in a breath, and he collapses onto his bent elbows, burying his face in Harry’s sternum. He rides out a couple aftershocks, back rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. Eventually, he pulls out carefully, holding the condom, and his silence worries Nick immediately.  
  
“Was that…uhm, was it alright that I…”  
  
Louis whirls around after dropping the condom in the bin and pounces on him, biting kisses into his neck.  
  
“That was the best fuckin’ orgasm of my life, Nick, we need to do that every. Damn. Time. Good God!”  
Nick giggles in spite of himself, but then catches sight of Harry, splayed on his back still, obviously making a conscious effort not to touch himself.  
  
Louis’ mouth is working its way up to Nick’s ear, where he whispers, “Wanna finish him off?”  
  
Nick’s knees go weak but he’s somehow hard again. He nods, grabbing another condom and pulling it on in a rush. With a bit more lube, he’s inside Harry and it is everything he remembered in the month away. He can’t believe he went almost four weeks without this, he’s so overwhelmed…and then, there’s Louis, curling himself around Harry and kissing him deeply. Nick begins to thrust, doing his best to be gentle but it’s difficult when there are two gorgeous boys – his boyfriends!!! – grabbing at each other, licking obscenely into each other’s mouths, right in front of him. He reaches out mid-thrust to tuck a curl behind Harry’s ear and is met with the most fucked-out grin that he has to close his eyes for a second. When he opens them, he sees Louis’ hand stroking Harry’s cock so lightly it must be excruciating. But, then Louis has both of Harry’s wrists pinned down with his forearm, so, Nick guesses they’re both doing just fine. He can’t focus on anything – it’s Louis’ bicep pulsing with the effort of keeping Harry down, or Harry’s abs clenching with each featherlight touch of Louis’, or the two of them meeting in a kiss again. He clenches his eyes shut again and can hear Louis’ voice from what feels like a long way away.  
  
“Tell him, Nick, c’mon tell him…”  
  
Nick is at the point where stars are popping in his head, where his mouth is running absolute nonsense, where he can’t articulate a single thing apart from how amazingly _good_ everything feels, but he finds words in the back of his throat just as he inches his eyes open.  
  
“Come, babe, you can come.”  
  
Harry falling apart is one of Nick’s favorite sights. He seizes up, arching beautifully, his hair fanned out underneath him like some fucking halo, and Nick starts to come the second he does. Louis pulls Harry through it, murmuring encouragements into his ear and swirling through the streaks on his stomach. Nick can barely breathe and wonders if he’s that old to have an asthma attack after sex, but after a long minute, he can feel himself easing down. Louis’ planting kisses along Harry’s hairline, muttering, “So so _so_ good, Haz, you’re lasting so long now.” Nick smiles as he disposes of the condom, returning with a wet flannel to clean them up. Harry looks positively zonked, letting Nick wipe him down with a blissed out smile. Louis hams it up, tucking his arms behind his head and raising his eyebrows as Nick gives him a couple strokes and a kiss. Nick eventually settles between them, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and settling back onto his pillows. Harry rolls over to rest his head on Nick’s chest and hums contentedly.  
  
“Mmmm, I love you.”  
  
Both Louis and Nick stiffen. Harry pops an eye open.  
  
“Oh ease up, will you? We all just fought tooth and nail to be together, I’m gonna say I love you. Cause I do.”  
  
Louis breaks into a smile and leans across to kiss him.  
  
“Love you too, Haz.”  
  
Nick rolls his eyes before burying his head in Harry’s hair.  
  
“I guess I love you too, Popstar.”  
  
Louis and Nick exchange a look. After a second, Louis curls his nose.  
  
“You smell.”  
  
“Me? This is coming from the boy who openly never washes his socks!”  
  
“Give it a _rest_ , you two,” Harry mumbles, but he fights back a grin.  
  
Louis sneaks the quickest of kisses on Nick’s cheek before rolling over, cradling Nick’s arm against his own chest like a teddy bear. Nick pulls him in tight again, kissing the back of his head and then Harry’s nose. He just can’t stop. They’re so perfect, and he’s so lucky.  
  
God, he really is in love. This is where his big mouth gets him.


End file.
